


Beyond All Doubt

by ceruleanshark



Series: Dark Lords of Arda [7]
Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Weddings, god this is so sappy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-01
Updated: 2018-07-01
Packaged: 2019-05-31 18:16:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,419
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15125150
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ceruleanshark/pseuds/ceruleanshark
Summary: On the day of their wedding, Mairon reflects on his relationship with Melkor.





	Beyond All Doubt

**Author's Note:**

> This is incredibly self indulgent, read at your own risk. In my defense, we didn't already have a wedding fic and there was so much potential.

The day they'd met, Mairon had felt something fall into place. 

 

It had been decades ago, but it never faded from his mind. Even now, sliding delicate golden pins into his ruby red hair as he sat before the mirror, Mairon could remember it all with perfect clarity.

 

 It had been twilight, and the polished marble of the corridor had gleamed rosy pink in the dying light. The tall arches of the windows had allowed a warm breeze to blow through, carrying with it the scent of flowers and pine trees. Mairon and Melkor's conversation had flowed as smoothly as the stream audible outside the palace. They had meshed so easily, Mairon lighting up as he spoke of his inventions. 

 

 His fëa had glowed with the soft golden light of his happiness, and the warm feelings in his chest were something he never knew he'd been missing.

 

Every time thereafter when he spoke to him, he'd felt a stirring in his heart, one that he always shoved aside and ignored. It was completely new, to be so giddy and flustered over another, and a Vala no less. It was almost frightening in its mystery and strength, but that simple emotion had grown and grown despite his attempts to push it down.

 

  It had built more with every conversation, every stroll through the elegant gardens, every time their eyes met, and every time they met to talk beneath the coil of stars in the ink black of nighttime. It became undeniable, and with time, Mairon’s desire to ignore it melted away.

 

 When Melkor had first spoken to him of leaving Almaren, there in that little garden with the peach-colored marble fountain and the flowered vines swaying from delicate trellises, Mairon had known somewhere deep inside that he would walk beside Melkor to the ends of the earth if he so desired. 

 

 That feeling had only strengthened when Melkor had first pressed his lips to Mairon's. It had been warm and tender and undemanding, but it had still made Mairon's heart pound and adrenaline race through his veins.

 

  It felt so overwhelmingly  _ right _ that Mairon had instantly wanted to do it again.

 

 They had fallen for each other more every day, and years later, they still did. 

 

 Mairon smiled fondly to himself and clasped his necklace about his slender neck, the golden filigree and tiny gems gleaming in the honey-colored lamplight. The atmosphere was serene despite the flutter of his rapid heartbeat. 

 

 He leaned back in his chair, closed his eyes, and let himself remember further. Every detail came through perfectly clear.

 

  Their first dance in a forest clearing, Mairon's head on his shoulder as they swayed together and fireflies rose from the dark trees around them, soft refrains of music from the festival they'd left behind providing the tune for their dance.

 

 Running through the fields of Almaren, emerald green grass rippling beneath them. They'd gone so fast it almost felt like they were flying before Mairon had stumbled and grasped Melkor's arm, sending them both rolling in a flurry down the gentle slope of the hill. They'd laughed together lying in the clover at the bottom, grass stains on their clothes and Mairon's braid half undone. Swept up in the giddiness of love, they had stayed there for time indeterminate, tangled up together beneath the twilight sky, feverish kisses pressed to each other's lips before they inevitably had to leave.

 

 Their late night meetings, hiding in alcoves or sneaking into the gardens or Melkor climbing up to Mairon's balcony. They had spoken in whispers and stayed on the highest alert, hearts pounding both from new love and from the fear of being caught, for surely they would be punished if their relationship was discovered.

 

 The first time the aurora borealis had lit the skies as the pair flew astride the dull metal body of one of Melkor's mechanical dragons, soaring beneath the cold silver arch of Varda’s beloved stars. The mountains had jutted up below them, peaks raking the dome of the cloudless sky, and the snow capping the highest reaches had sparkled magically under the brilliant ribbons of color that formed the aurora. The glowing colors had danced through the sky around them, an open declaration of Melkor's love, and Mairon had never trusted his heart more.

 

 Every time they'd stolen away from Almaren so they could laugh and be together and carefree like every other couple. It had never seemed fair that their courtship took place in secluded coves, isolated forests, and labyrinthine gardens, but that was what circumstance had dealt them, and a love like theirs was too good to lose.

 

 Mairon smiled wistfully. Their courtship had been difficult, yes, but it was all worth it. The exhilaration of breaking his fëa bond with Aulë and becoming a Maia of Melkor had been absolutely magical, like all the weight of the world lifting off his chest.

 

 The day he'd left Almaren at the side of his beloved was the best day of his life.

 

 Angband had been so utterly new to him. The imposing fortress, despite all the dark stone and strange machinery and volcanoes, had quickly become his home. The Umaiar and orcs became his people more surely than his fellow forge Maiar ever had been. He soon came to wonder how he had ever felt out of place in the iron fortress.

 

After all, it was there in the opulent bedchamber that Mairon had first awoken in the arms of the man he loved. It was in Angband that he was himself, fearless and open with his ideas and plans. He walked the corridors without the whispers of mixed pity and disgust for the strange little forge Maia, instead basking in the quiet awe from his subordinates. His fëa blazed brighter than the sun and everyone around him knew it.

 

Almaren seemed so far away now, like the afterthought of a bad dream.

 

“Mairon?” At the sound of his name he opened his eyes and sat up. He turned to the door. Thuringwethil stood there in her dress, sapphires gleaming against her ebony hair.

 

 She smiled, eyes warm. “Are you ready?”

 

 Mairon took a deep breath and stood, robes swishing around his legs in a shimmer of gold embroidery and black silk. He took a final glance in the mirror, admiring the way the gems patterning his outfit flickered like tiny flames in the light. 

 

 “Yes.” He turned back to his friend, chest fluttering with nerves. Her smile widened as she led him out of the room and down the corridor beyond, past torches that sent shadows leaping and dancing over the walls. The carven dragons and wolves seemed to flicker to life in the torchlight.

 

 As Mairon approached the curving archway, his heart raced a little faster. The cavern beyond was massive, roof soaring high above what could be seen from the ground. Thuringwethil fell into place beside him, fingers resting reassuringly on his shoulder for a fraction of a second before she whisked them away and turned her focused gaze ahead. 

 

 There had always been a flicker of fear within Mairon, an undying worry that Melkor would leave him or betray him, leaving him as broken and alone as the others had always predicted he'd end up. 

 

  Even after years had passed, Mairon could never seem to force away the dark shadow of doubt that hung over him. He had always been afraid that his feelings were not reciprocated by his beloved, even during their courting-days in Almaren. The uncertainty boiled to life even now, in spite of Melkor’s repeated reassurances and romantic gestures.

 

 But as he stepped through the elegant archway and into the lavishly decorated cavern, he finally understood. 

 

 There, bathed in the soft glow of a myriad of golden lanterns and before the gaze of hundreds of orcs and Umaiar, Mairon looked into Melkor's eyes and saw all his own love and devotion mirrored there. 

 

 He walked in an almost dreamlike state down the aisle to the dais where his soon-to-be husband waited, watching Melkor extend his hand to him with a reassuring smile.

The bright glow of Melkor's fëa reaching out to brush against his own finally chased the shadow of doubt from him. In that moment, he knew it had always been real, and would be so until Arda was unmade. They were irrevocable beyond all doubt.

 

 Mairon reached out to take his hand, stepping up onto the dais and into the simple truth of their love.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are appreciated!


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